Second to a Haircut
by An LOTR Freak
Summary: Small Alice and Jasper centric drabbles about various but important moments in their lives. Originally a one shot...but some stories need to be heard from different ways.
1. Chapter 1

'_Beautiful._'

That was the first coherent word that was translated from her senses to her muddled mind.

'_Bright and beautiful_.'

She had a vague inkling of something beyond all this, the pristine blueness above her.

There was grief, and there was darkness, endless darkness and then…hope.

She couldn't remember who or what but she'd known it from the sharp change it brought to her world for a while.

Then there came the hazy feel of fears for the unknowns. Not so much her fear, for some reason she had been beyond it,

no, this had been someone else's.

_For_ her.

And pain so similar to what she had remembered suffering before she hardly noticed it and yet it was completely different.

Burning.

But not jagged.

Not the mind-numbing, ripping jaggedness.

Remembered…memories… '_Alice_' her mind sputtered out. That was her memory, her identity…

Alice slowly, carefully sat up from the cold wet cement she was lying on and looked around. She was on a narrow, shadowed, damp little stretch of pavement surrounded by brick on three sides.

An alley then.

There was a faint stirring of unease with the realization of enclosure. But this was different.

Freedom was in reach.

Bright and sunny freedom just a few feet away.

The peace that transcended from the thought allowed her to assemble further.

'_Alone_' her mind whispered.

'_No_' said another part of her.

Not alone.

Someone had been there.

A little while before.

Someone who had cared…the hope.

_Vague shadows of a face, so dear, so familiar, a guardian, softly spoken words that couldn't quiet hide the regret, the relief, the fear. "It'll be okay now Mary Alice…nothing can get to you now…you'll be fine…Alice… and then nothing but warm blackness that was nearly stifling_"

But they had gone and the voices whispered that they would never return…

She wondered at the strange bubble of sorrow that took hold. She let it linger for a moment as if by chance it would pop and somehow everything would make sense. But then she pushed it back into the blank corner of her mind. Already the half sought memories were fading…fading into the darkness she failed to understand yet knew so well.

For the first time she started concentrating on the world beyond the little passageway of her surroundings and her mind. It was early, just past dawn, so there wasn't much human noise to speak of. Funny though how much louder what very little traffic there was seemed to be, how much further the call of birds seem to carry and echo and likewise be answered. Somehow this struck Alice as odd as she stood up and walked slowly but steadily to the alley's entrance where instinct halted her just at shadows edge. Like some disconcerted thought had finally gotten the nerve to tell her such precise hearing was not possible, not _humanly_ possible…what _had_ happened to her anyway? It was as if she had lived her entire life in a bubble that had inexplicably popped. Now her senses were being flooded like a balloon in a breeze. Tentivly, almost fearfully, she gave into impulse and stretched her delicate fingers to the light. She heard the half a second it took to utter the startled cry that came from her and when she looked around again she found herself pressed to the far wall. She had moved even before she realized it. But so quickly…? The alley had to have been 15 feet at the least; yet somehow it'd taken her less then a breath to dart the length of it. She looked down at her hands as if suddenly unsure if they really belonged to her. They looked normal. Pale and flexible, five fingers on each, ten in all and three knuckles per digit. She never had gotten much sun, not that she could _remember_ not getting much sun, or anything at all for that matter, but then why else would the sun seem so new, freedom so dear and sweet. Gathering her resolve she walked again to the edge and reached out_. Her skin glowed, glittering like crystal, like thousands of tiny diamonds were embedded in the surface. _

And all that once that cease to matter.

A small breeze ruffled her ebony tresses bringing with it a world such as she had never known. In a split second she was no longer a lost and bewildered being piecing together a tiny space in the vast world.

She was a goddess.

Born to prowl the shadows.

Born to dominate.

To hunt.

That intoxicating scent that overrode all others.

Her stomach tightened, her mouth seemed overflowing and dry as sandpaper all at the same time.

Hollow.

She was hollow.

To be filled only with one thing, one need.

There.

Just a few blocks away.

Once again she was moving before conscious thought.

There was no thought.

No semblance of reason could chain the vast being that was now bound and irrevocably part of her.

He was her age, brown hair and brown eyes with a charcoal grey shirt and black slacks, tiered looking.

Irrelevant.

Prey.

He was so close to her.

So close to his end.

How blissful.

She would take him.

Take him under and tap the warm rich fountain that pulsed within him, ending that maddening scent…and suddenly, as if an eye had opened with in an eye in her mind, there was vision.

_The boy in front of her. Stark terror in his eyes. Being held, pinned by the epitome of evil. A monster. A monster that looked like…no…NO! that COULDN'T be her! That WASN'T her! _

All at once she looked down to the puddle at her feet and beheld the face that was herself, that was a monster. Eyes that burned with ruby fire, fangs pearl white and sickeningly sharp. All at once fear, sharp and cold rose in a tide that swept her body into trembling.

She couldn't, wouldn't let it happen. She ran. And gradually, bit by bit peace filled her. Filled the pattern of her steps. She ran as far, as fast as she possibly could. Half listening for her breath to turn ragged and her heart and blood to sing in her ears, to distract her. But there was nothing. She was flying; her muscles no longer bound to gravity. Her breath moved in and out from nothing more that the habit, the simple pleasure of inhaling the myriad of scents…her heart…so that too had passed from her…she slowed to a stop with the overwhelming loneliness; what was happening?

Alice pulled her knees to her chin and hid her face. An outcast, somehow, she knew, again. Loathing, rage and despair rose to choke her, even as she closed her eyes to somehow stop the flood. The vision blurred into focus, coming to her need.

_Something that existed, but was not there. Soon to be there. Three people; a man, a woman and a boy. All beautiful, all honey blonde but for the latter. Their eyes were yellow, not the red hers had become._ '_Animal blood_' popped the thought. The color came from animal blood, not human blood. '_Find them_' a voice commanded.

Help, understanding, all would be there. Alice cautiously began to climb the ladder at the rear of the ally she had finally stopped in. as clearly as if she were running again solace took over.

Animal blood it was then.

It was more than balking at the mere thought of taking human life. Alice knew somewhere in the back of her mind that first impressions were everything and her coming into the world needed to be something good for once. So that she could be herself and be happy with it, whatever her self was, she had a feeling she would find out soon.

So she could be accepted.

Accepted.

O how she desperately needed acceptance.

'_Find them_' the instinct said once more.

Yes, she would find them; she would do whatever it took.

But there was something else first…

reaching the roof top she let the warm breeze blow back her long hair, closed her eyes and let the sun soak into her iridescent skin…trusting her feelings. And the vision fluttered open again:

_strong jaw, lean, tall frame and blonde hair her fingers itched to bury themselves in. from him emininated loathing, anger, despair, lonely, searching for a purpose._

"_Huh_", she thought, "_De ja vu_." Right now she would find him. She felt the others could wait. He needed her more…she would find him first. Alice grimaced as the wind blew again. Tendrils of black cascaded into her mouth and eyes. "Well maybe second," she amended, "after a hair cut."


	2. Theories

What exactly he was doing here all by himself Jasper really didn't know

AN: So sorry for the long wait! I've had this for weeks now and just haven't found the time to do anything about it (testing and such). But suggestions are welcome and reviews are even better. It's funny but I keep saying this will be the last segment of this work and I keep thinking of more ideas. I might do a piece of Jasper's proposal. But once again thanks to my Beta reader and all her fantastic work and I do not own Stephenie Meyer's work…except in paper back…and the movie (when it comes out) and just about anything else that comes out for it.

The Theory of Impossible Relativity

What exactly he was doing here all by himself Jasper really didn't know. All he knew was that he was tired. Not tired in the normal, human, conventional sense of the word, for that was impossible for him to know, but tired none-the-less. Bone weary of the pain, of the fear that was raising as sharply as a knife blade though his senses. Fear he had to try harder than he'd like to separate from himself, to remind himself it wasn't his fear he was sensing, it wasn't in his need to be afraid.

Ah, but there's the woe. It always led to the fact that no, the fear was not his. It was _because_ of him and the comfort he could afford to offer them was the barest shell of peace; the fuzzy paw to cover the razor claws. Any sense of ease that brought them to death's embrace through him was a lie. His claws weren't retractable.

They truly had every right to be afraid.

All his life had been a storm of hell; one battle to the next. Kill or be killed. Pain was superficial. Pleasure**,** peace as incomprehensible as life** –** he was so dead inside. There was nothing, absolutely nothing but a legacy that would make skin crawl if he so ever cared to masquerade it as a story by the fireside.

A monster. He was a monster. And he couldn't take it anymore.

That was why he was here.

All things considered he might be a different kind of monster than his beginnings had warranted. A tamer one in the most wishful of thinking, but, he had never been much of one for wishful thinking.Just because the blood slowed down didn't mean it stopped flowing… It was Peter who noticed it first. Realized, at least in part, what he himself could not, would not, acknowledge. Peter and his wife Charlotte, who were god-sends in every sense but a soul.

'_It always gets worse after you hunt_.' he had said.

At the time, Jasper had just shrugged '_I don't see much I can do about it then; I can't just not feed_.' But he supposed looking at where he was now: in the daytime, in a quiet corner square of Philadelphia, alone, that somewhere in the back of his mind what little remnants of humanity he had left, his undying perfectionism and prickly southern pride had asserted themselves, without his conscious awareness, to the impossible: to, in fact, _do_ something about it. To find a way out.

He sighed. Now if only he could figure out _how_. His eyes were dark, his stomach a knot of burning, worrying him a little with the fact that he was in public sight. Though, since he had come this far, he very much doubted fate would hand him any brilliant illuminations in the near future. In fact**,** he thought, glancing at the sky, fate didn't seem inclined to give out anything more than dampened clothing and spirits at this point.

He looked around quickly**,** spotting a classic little diner with water droplets already beginning to splatter onto its striped awning. Self-cautionary instincts honed by years of war, mortal and immortal alike, prompted him to the curb and across the narrow street. Inconspicuousness was the key to survival no matter what odd quirks of freedom the North warranted. Besides which, an hour here or there wasn't going to bring answers any closer. Aspects of a destiny didn't simply fall into place in ten minutes. It was impossible.

With that creed in mind, he stepped through the door; absently listening to the cheerful ringing of the tiny welcome bell above the doorway while taking in the dimly lit, sparsely crowded restaurant. Movement at the counter caught his ever-wary attention and a high stool swiveled in his direction.

She smiled. That was the first thing that struck him. It was radiant, beautiful, worlds…_galaxies_ away from any such gestures he had seen before. It took him a blink to even register the fact that she was one of his own kind. She jumped down from the counter, her tiny frame absorbing the impact; moving toward him with the graceful litheness of a cat, a subtle, muted strength that seemed almost incomprehensibleto him. He had the sudden, odd compulsion to sweep her up in his arms and run out the door with her, to protect her. Though from what he had not the faintest idea and the urge was swept away almost as soon as it had come**,** by the curious sensation that time had whispered to a stand-still around the two of them.

The rain tapping on the rooftop, the muffled conversations, the clink of silverware, it all fell away in the wake of her eyes. Those strange honey colored eyes that were so peaceful, so piercing and knowing; like the fate of the world had been laid out at her fingertips and she had just been waiting for someone to share it with, the only one who could understand it all with her.

As she kept walking toward him, he felt a moment's confusion. What was she _doing_? Was she going to attack? Some brute practical side of him asked what else _could _she possibly be doing. But if that was so—why were her eyes searing his empty shell of a soul like—? Why was she radiating—her emotions were almost innumerable: relief, excitement, nervousness and…and something else he wasn't sure he could name…something he could not recall feeling, for a monster could not feel such a thing, that strange nameless something that started a warm, pleasant glow that had its epicenter in his hollow chest. A something that had the indescribable accompiment of _rightness_, like something in his dark cold world had slipped into place where he hadn't even know it was missing, had flooded him with a light he hadn't seen for centuries beyond count and hadn't realized he missed so much. A piece of his human self finding its way back to him at long last: Hope. Love. All this and she hadn't even spoken a word to him yet.

She stopped less than a foot away and looked up at him with an expression somewhere between bemused and matter-of-fact. Which, he was sure was more control than his face had managed.

"You're late," she said, "You've kept me waiting a long time." Despite the fact he was feeling more than a step or two behind this woman, he couldn't help but agree. He had been waiting for something for a long time too, and it seemed to have found him. But best to be cautious and when in doubt: be courteous.

So falling back on his southern heritage he ducked his head cordially, humbly, "I'm sorry ma'am." She laughed, Heaven had never heard such a sound, and offered him her hand…Warrior that he was, Jasper had learned long ago to trust his instincts. He knew as soon as he wrapped his palm into those exquisitely delicate fingers he wouldn't ever be letting that hand, or the person attached to it, very far out of his reach again.

It was impossible.


End file.
